Afu-ra - Lyrical Monster Lyrics
[DJ Premier scratches]Pure microphone magicCarving up mc's, straight up torch their weak embellishmentsGetting itPut it onDirty download gigolo with the illest flowYeahPerverted Monk high chief[Afu-Ra]Life Force moving swiftlyPitch forks steady miss meMy renaissance, my brother's light eclipse meMy rough callous feet stomping on these city streets***** that turn the other cheekUnless you squeeze a peachNo parental advisory, so no need for the bleepsNo comin' in my crib unless you wipin' your feetI hit the street, I feel good plus completeA lotta hot rappers ain't nothing without their beatMark my name, on the clipboard, I gets rawWhen I was sixteen, that's when I used to rip for itLike Jiminy Cricket, hopping over the candle stickWatchin' my ass, and yo I learnt quickI'm nifty, shifty with my dirt, GDoing my thing, put in work, ain't nothing hurt meI bring it from front to back, white to blackShoe to hat, use clues I'm doin thatRhyme skills the dopest, the lyrical style I spit is ferociousYou feel the beat in the streets and get close to thisSo while I do my thing, you do your thingCaress the mic like a baby to make your head bangRhyme skills the dopest, the lyrical style I spit is ferociousFeel the beat in the streets and get close to thisSo while I do my thing, do your thingCarve my name in your brain, make your head bangMonumental, thoughts flowing sequentialThe quintessential mental, tapping intoMy focus, take it round like a rentalAnd if I have to cut you with my gonzoI'm like a warless sword, I'm digging intoLike you can joust defenceSo many strokes and slashes let offYou ain't got not fingerprintsCarve you up with my Rambo, ammoLooking like leather-face, trippin' on the dance floorToo much hypocrisy, up in the market, BIt ain't about talent, it's all about the currencyMy magna opus, addicted plus the dopestMaybe I'll write a line and fara canna quote thisThey got status but can't work the apparatusHow could a project sell millionsTalking 'bout millions, when half their buyers ain't seen a thousandRhyme skills the dopest, the lyrical style I spit is ferociousFeel the beat in the streets and get close to thisSo while I do my thing, do your thingCaress the mic like a baby to make your head bangRhyme skills the dopest, the lyrical style I spit is ferociousFeel the beat in the streets and get close to thisSo while I do my thing, do your thingCarve my name in your brain, make your head bangTimes is kinda critical, that's why I gotta keep it lyricalSimple and plain, cos I don't wanna riddle youI'm tryin' to black out, cos I'll blow your back outPullin' my axe out, do a M.O.P. mash outWith my dreads out, an' I ain't no type of boy scoutMr Life Force, but you call me The CountGot so many names, that I can't even countLet's see: Paisley, 5th Thaing, Mr How, Dr IntergalacticMy other names is under the mattressNow you can get your grades pissed onAfter your body's been buriedFrom trying to get your diss onWax off, wax onMy calm is bringin' a storm, from the night until the early morn'I got so many styles, forget the grape with wineLife Force on the mic, an' 'bout to put it onTakin' you ass away like I was KogonRhyme skills the dopest, the lyrical style I spit is ferociousFeel the beat in the streets and get close to thisSo while I do my thing, do your thingCaress the mic like a baby to make your head bangRhyme skills the dopest, the lyrical style I spit is ferociousFeel the beat in the streets and get close to thisSo while I do my thing, do your thingCarve my name in your brain, make your head bang
